Acknowledge
by CherriBerri
Summary: While walking home, a young Naruto decides to talk to a brooding Uchiha. One-shot/drabble. SasuNaru


**Cherry:** Happy Almost New Year all. :]

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><p><strong>Acknowledge<strong>  
><em>a naruto fanfic by <strong>Cherry<strong>_

Original story/characters by _Kishimoto Masashi_

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><p>It was time to be getting home, whatever the word meant to others, Naruto knew rather than suspected that he would never know what a real 'home' was like. His 'home' was just a place he went to eat and sleep, and sometimes not even that much. 'Home' was a concept he doubted he would ever understand.<p>

He pondered the implications of having a 'home', trudging down the dirt path running along the river that cut through the entire village, a shimmering ribbon of fire as the sun dipped beyond the horizon. It was occasionally punctuated with small outcrops of half-bridges. _Boardwalks_, Iruka-sensei had called them. To Naruto, they were a place of sanctity and sorrow and escape. There, he could stare out across the water for hours on end, not-really-thinking about all sorts of things and sometimes he would simply count the number of pebbles that slept beneath the surface of the water. It was a lonely way to pass the time, but one of his favourite, because the river would never change; it would always be there to comfort him when the days got too hot or the words became too much and he felt like he was drowning in the constant waves of dislike oozing from the villagers.

It was there that he went to find some company and be alone all at the same time.

Today, however, there was already someone occupying his small sanctuary of loneliness and companionship. A black-haired someone with a distinct red-and-white fan emblazoned on his back. The Uchiha boy—the _last_ Uchiha boy if the rumors were true, and Naruto felt all doubts leave him as he stared at the other boy's back. He knew instinctively what the Uchiha boy was feeling, exactly what was running through his head at the moment, as he too stared out over the liquid flames, glinting and glimmering like a million glass shards.

As if Naruto's thoughts were somehow not as private as he had intended, the Uchiha boy turned, eyes striking his own with a snap. Depthless black and pure-sky blue.

Out of pure habit, Naruto stuck out his lip and turned with a huff, overtaken—for a brief moment—by schoolyard jealousy at the Uchiha's brilliancy and much-above-average skills for anything and everything he touched, so much the complete opposite for Naruto himself. The moment passed, however, and Naruto looked back.

Unbidden, a small smile crept onto his lips and lingered there. Here was a boy that knew what it was like; here was a boy who _understood_, for once, what Naruto felt. Here was someone also utterly and completely alone, just like him. A kind of warmth completely unrelated to the dying sun began to permeate every tendril of his being as Naruto's steps slowed to a stop. He glanced back once more, catching the small grin on the Uchiha's face that made up Naruto's mind for him.

Spinning on his heels, he casually made his way down the hill, trying his best to hide his obvious pleasure.

"Oi, you're in my spot!" Naruto laced his fingers behind his head, hoisting a look of pissed aloofness onto his face, hoping it would be sufficient to mask the giddiness mounting in his stomach. It wasn't like this was their first time talking—far from it—but it certainly _felt_ like the first time they've ever spoken.

In response, Sasuke only scoffed, kicking his feet a little higher over the surface of the water. "Who said it was _your_ spot, dunce?"

"Bastard," Naruto countered, plopping himself down next to the brooding boy, feet falling into rhythm with his. "You know, I'm going to be Hokage one day," he warned, though his heart was not in it as it usually was.

"Tch, an idiot like you? I'd be less surprised if a toad got there first."

Words continued, though it was a small necessity compared to the simple comfort of _knowing_.

Would either of them _know_ that words, immature as they were, tossed at each other over the water like skipping rocks could change the entire fate of the World of Shinobi? Would they know that, young as they were, the two of them held millions of lives in their small, untrained fingers? No. They would not.

For all they know now, is that there was someone else like them, who understood. Someone else, like them, who had lost so, so much and had _nothing_ left. And for now, that was enough. For the both of them, it was _enough_ to have just one other person who _knew_.


End file.
